


The Last Goodbye

by BakerStreetBabe (Watson221b)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Post Reichenbach, Post The Reichenbach Fall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:37:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watson221b/pseuds/BakerStreetBabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My theory as to their reunion after the Reichenbach Fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to thefriendlyrhino, who helped edit this a thousand times.

"No, Sherlock. Just- just leave me alone." John walked faster in an attempt to distance himself from Sherlock, but the tall man kept up easily with his long strides.  


"Why not? Clearly your life has deteriorated in my absence." John braced himself; he knew deductions were coming. Sure enough, Sherlock launched right in. "Your hand tremor has returned, with your limp soon to follow, no doubt. You are showing several symptoms of depression. You have obviously not been sleeping more than four hours a night, and often have nightmares. You've lost seven pounds, you no longer associate with any of your friends, you have not updated your blog since I left-" John stopped walking suddenly and whirled around, cutting Sherlock off sharply.  


"Exactly. You left. You jumped off a bloody building and faked your own death and I thought you were dead, Sherlock. You made me think you were dead. "  


Sherlock sighed, and rolled his eyes. "As I've already said, I had to do it in order to protect you. And you would have realized I was alive almost immediately had you bothered to use your brain at all."  


Now John was annoyed. He hated when Sherlock used his condescending voice on him. "I'm sorry my stupidity is an inconvenience to you, but we can't all be geniuses." John said snidely, and a little resentfully. "Besides, none of my so-called depression symptoms have anything to do with you! Not that it's any of your business, but I just broke up with my girlfriend." said John defensively.  


"Wrong!" Now Sherlock was exasperated, and his eyes lit up with anger. "She was not your girlfriend, you had only gone out twice in the two weeks that you'd been dating her, which shows that you were making no effort to become involved in a relationship." John shifted around uncomfortably; he felt awkward whenever Sherlock deduced anything personal about him. He was also feeling a bit guilty at having been caught at his lie, though he really should have expected it. "She ended it because you never took any interest in her, which was because you didn’t take any interest in anything. Which, by the way, is another symptom of depression. Because you didn't care about her, these symptoms are obviously not caused by your break-up, they are caused by my absence. Really, John. I would have thought you knew better than to try to lie to me." Sherlock's voice was patronizing.  


"Three." John said, glaring at Sherlock now. He was past the discomfort of being deduced like one of Sherlock's cases, and was now just plain mad.  


"What?"  


"We went on three dates before she ended it, not two."  


"Irrelevant." Sherlock said brusquely, though John could tell he was a bit embarrassed at missing it.  


"You're only saying that because you were wrong." John paused, then his expression suddenly became darker. "Why am I even still talking to you? Go away. For the last time, I do not want you back in my life." John turned and started walking away before Sherlock could see the anguish on his face, but Sherlock grabbed his arm. John turned back to face him, after carefully closing off his expression.  


"I don't understand. You’re not being rational. Your life is better when I’m in it." Sherlock protested, searching John's face for the answer. Sherlock's face was closed off as usual, but John could easily tell that he was hurt by the rejection.  


"No, of course you don't understand. It's not about reason. It's about sentiment, something you can't comprehend at all." John sighed. He had not been looking forward to explaining this. "You hurt me, Sherlock." John's voice cracked on that last line. It was going to be even harder to say than he'd thought. Even though he was so mad at Sherlock, he still couldn't bear to see the wounded look on the man's face. "You died and you left me all alone, and I didn't know what to do. I was devastated, I had no will to live, and it's all your fault. I was completely lost without you. But eventually it got easier." Here John's voice grew softer, remorseful. "I learned to stop looking around, thinking you were still there. I learned to stop expecting you to text at any moment to summon me to the next crime scene. It took a long time, Sherlock. But I learned to live without you. And now you just show up, and-" John was starting to get angry again. He had given up any hope trying to remain calm.  


"John, I-" Sherlock interrupted John, desperate to console him, but not sure of what to say.  


" No." John's tone was forceful, his expression livid. "Let me finish. You show up, and expect everything just to go back to normal. Well, it can't. I can't let you back in my life, not when I'm just now learning how to cope without you. I need to move on. It's not healthy, how much I care- cared about you. I need to continue my life without you."  


"John, please! I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. But you need me. Think of the excitement, the danger. You need that, you have to come back." Sherlock's voice was pleading. For only the second time since John had met Sherlock, he was begging. And the first time, it had been the nicotine addiction talking.  


John was devastated. He didn't know if he would ever be able to forgive himself for what he was about to do. "You hurt me, Sherlock. You made me feel a pain so profound I don't know if I can ever fully recover. And I can't forgive that. I can't forgive you for doing that to me. So please, Sherlock. Let me walk away, and don't follow me. As long as you’re there, I can never let go of the pain. So if you care about me, at all, just let me go." John looked at Sherlock one last time, seeing hurt in his eyes and knowing that he had just put it there.  


"Goodbye, Mr. Holmes."  


And with that, John turned and walked away, his hand shoved in its pocket so Sherlock wouldn’t see it tremble. He clenched it in a fist.  


Sherlock stood and watched him go, watched his life walking away from him. "I need you, John." He said it so quietly, John didn't think he’d been meant to hear it. He kept walking, determined not to turn around. If he did, he didn't think he'd have the strength to keep going.  


"I'm sorry, Sherlock," John whispered to himself. His voice hitched, and he fought back tears. He did not look back.


End file.
